Happy Saint Valentine's Day, Mr Todd
by LovelyLovett
Summary: It's Valentine's Day on Fleet Street and a certain baker is keen on getting a certain barber to notice her.


"Morning, Mr.T. Happy Saint Valentine's day!" Mrs. Lovett chirped happily as she strode into the barber shop with a tray full of food and what not.

"What?" Sweeney answered gruffly, not budging from his position at the window.

"It's the fourteenth, love. Saint Valentine's day! Aren't you excited?" Mrs. Lovett replied airily as she set his tray down and set up his lunch for him on his desk.

"Stupid," Sweeney muttered under his breath as he slowly turned around.

"What was that, dear?"

"I said, it's stupid. Love isn't real, it never has been."

Mrs. Lovett stood and stared at the barber for a moment, blinking a few times as she swallowed his words. "Of course love is real," She said breathily as she looked down and pretended to busy herself with cleaning his vanity.

"How would you know?" Sweeney scoffed, slowly walking forward.

"I think I'd know just as well as anyone. There'd be no life without love. No life worth living, that is," She muttered, trying to make her point without starting a fight.

"Get out."

"'Course, you wouldn't understand, what with your love bein'…well, gone. Anyhow, we're both stuck together this Valentine's day. Ain't that somethin'?"

"Get out."

"I um…I bought you some flowers. Your room could be a little less dreary, don't you think?" Mrs. Lovett said with a sigh, pretending not to hear him as she set out her flowers. "They ran out of roses at the market, so I got you daisies. They're common, but I like 'em," She drawled, slowly looking over to Sweeney, who was staring at her with furrowed eyebrows.

"I'm not going to say it again. Get out," He growled in a warning tone.

"But Mr.T, I've only just gotten 'ere," She replied quickly, almost desperately.

Letting out a hoarse grunt, the barber reached for his razor as he took another step closer. He was done playing around.

"Alright, alright, fine. I'll leave you be," Mrs. Lovett sighed, stepping towards the door with her hands up defensively. Taking a deep breath, she took out a small valentine card that she had made and laid it on his chair before stepping out of the room and returning back downstairs.

Letting out a soft whimper, the baker went to her bedroom and sat on the corner of the bed, squeezing her eyes shut as she attempted to bottle up her emotions. It was difficult, though. He hadn't even looked at her. He hadn't noticed her new ruby red dress that cost her a fortune, or the makeup she'd spent at least half an hour applying that morning. Nor had he noticed the way she did her hair slightly differently- pinned it back in a bun similar to the style his Lucy used to wear. She hated herself for getting so worked up over him, and wanted to scream every time she felt her heart flutter at the thought of him. Her entire morning had been wasted on a two minute conversation with the man she loved.

However, little did she know that the barber upstairs had noticed her- and he was furious about it. His blood boiled as he raked his eyes over her perfectly porcelain skin, and his fists clenched as he took in her wonderful silhouette paired with a very classy new hairdo. Although he absolutely hated to admit it, Sweeney couldn't deny that the baker downstairs looked absolutely stunning this Valentine's day. How dare she. How dare she come into his room spouting her ridiculous ideals of love and romance while looking like that. It was absolutely unacceptable. Letting out an annoyed huff, the barber walked back over to his chair and was about to sit, when he saw the card Mrs. Lovett had left for him. Biting his lip, he picked up the infernal lacy valentine, and read the back of it.

'Dearest Sweeney,

No one should be alone on Valentine's day. I'll be yours if you let me. I've always been yours. We're the same, you and I. And if you didn't know already, I love you with all my heart.

Happy Saint Valentine's Day,

Nellie'

Eyebrows furrowing, Sweeney re-read the card a few more times, shaking his head as he tried to push the baker's stupid little voice out of his head. He didn't even know why he was letting this get to him- he knew she loved him. He'd always known. He never really thought much of it though; if she wanted to run around and cook and clean for him, who was he to stop her? He found it quite funny how she was always desperate for her attention, actually. But he kept telling himself it was nothing more than an infatuation- she'd been alone for a very long time after her husband died, and couldn't help but throw herself at the first man that came near her. But looking down at the card in his hand, he didn't really know what to think. She love him, yes, but she had always loved him, and she always would. That was a scary thought. Letting out a sigh, the barber dropped the card to the floor and got up to pace as he thought some more.

Mrs. Lovett's feelings for him were clear now, but what he didn't know was how he felt for her. He didn't completely hate her, no. She was usefull. She cooked and cleaned and even got rid of bodies for him. Without her, he might've been rotting in jail at this very moment. He supposed, perhaps, he might've had a slight liking for her. Although she was annoying and talkative and exhausting to be around, her optimism and happiness always spread like the bloody plague. Damn her. He had to put a stop to this, once and for all. That afternoon, he picked up the valentine she'd given him and marched downstairs. Mrs. Lovett was reading in the parlour now, and gently put her book down as the barber came in.

"Oh, hello, love," She said softly, surprised to see him out of his room.

"What the fuck is this?" Sweeney snarled, throwing the scrap of paper and lace on the ground in front of her.

"Oh, that's…I just thought…"

"What, Nellie? Thought I'd fall in love with you?!" He barked.

Eyes watering, Mrs. Lovett looked away and tucked some stray hair behind her ear. "No, I just wanted you to know," She mumbled, feeling her cheeks turn a bit red.

"You think I didn't know that already?! You think I don't see the way you look at me? You think I don't notice the way you beg for my attention? You think I don't hear you crying in your room every night? You think I don't notice the way you try so damn hard to fit into those damned dresses and do up your shit hair for me? You think I don't want to kill myself every night when my mind drifts off and I start thinking of you? Because I do, Mrs. Lovett. And I've had enough. This needs to stop." He bellowed, inching closer with every sentence until he was only inches from her face.

Mrs. Lovett froze when the barber began ranting, both shocked and touched by his words. All this time she thought she'd wasted trying to impress him wasn't for nothing after all. He noticed her. It took her a moment to process everything she'd heard, but after a moment, she realized just how close Sweeney was. Her eyes snapped up into his, and she took a second just to look at him. There was something different about him. His face, which was usually twisted with hate and despair now stared at her in confusion, frustration, and desperation. He was angry that he had feelings for her. Cautiously, she leaned forward and gently rested her forehead against his and closed her eyes.

"Don't," He mumbled, half-heartedly attempting to pull away. But Mrs. Lovett ignored his protest and gently wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him closer.

"It's okay. It's gonna be okay," She whispered, gently brushing her lips against his.

Sweeney tensed at her words, not wanting any of her sympathy. He came down to break her heart, and this is how she responded? It took him completely off-guard, and he hated himself for not being able to pull away. "I can't," He finally said after a while, standing back up and walking toward the door.

"One day, Sweeney. Please, give me one day," Mrs. Lovett followed him, catching his wrist as he was about to exit the parlour. Sweeney turned around and looked at the woman in front of him. He was silent for a long time, before suddenly lunging forward and giving the baker a passionate, hungry kiss.

Mrs. Lovett was surprised by this, of course, but wasted no time in kissing him back. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around him as she let him explore her mouth. She let out a small whimper as he bit down on her bottom lip, nearly hard enough to draw blood. Nearly melting in his arms, the baker let out a sigh as she let she let his hands roam up and down her back, finally stopping when they reached the back of her head and tangled in her frizzy red hair.

She only pulled back when she felt like suffocating from the lack of air, and after taking a few desperate gasps, she grabbed Sweeney's hand and dragged backwards toward the reluctantly followed and fell down on top of her, aggressively tugging at her corset strings as he watched her beautiful chest rise and fall at a rapid pace.

Mrs. Lovett couldn't help but smile as Sweeney undressed her, laying limp and submissive on the couch underneath him. His eyes seemed impossibly darker than usual, but she could tell by the tiniest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips that he was enjoying this every bit as much as she was. Once the dress was off, she sat up on the couch and attempted to help rid the baker of his shirt with shaking hands. She let him stand up to rid himself of his trousers and pants, and took a deep breath once she realized they were both equally naked. There was a moment where, just for a second, the barber and the baker stared at each other with curiosity.

Sweeney was just how she'd dreamed he'd be. He was rather skinny- scrawny almost, but the muscles he did have were very toned, and she found him absolutely delectable. There were scars all over his chest and back, and she silently made a vow to memorize every single one of them. Her eyes slowly traveled down until she found the one thing she was most excited about. He wasn't very big, but he looked considerably thick, which made her shift slightly in her seat as she waited for him to make the first move.

Sweeney, on the other hand, took his time enjoying the sight in front of him as well. Mrs. Lovett was incredibly petite compared to him, and looked almost like a porcelain doll, sitting perfectly still on the sofa in front of him. He found it hard to imagine her hauling bodies around the bakehouse with what little muscle she had. But that was Nellie; always full of surprises. For someone so small and delicate looking, he had no idea how vulgar and lustful she could be. She wasn't very well endowed as far as cleavage went, but he found himself staring at her perky rounded breasts all the same. He so badly wanted to touch them- so that's exactly what he did.

Stepping forward, he pushed Mrs. Lovett back on the couch and easily straddled her. His hands automatically cupped at her breasts, roughly massaging them as he leaned in for another kiss. Nellie arched off the sofa and moaned into his mouth as he continued to touch her. She ran her hands down his back, gently scraping her nails across each sensitive scar that ran along his cold white skin.

She let out a shriek as one hand left her breast and gently stroked between her legs before pushing two long fingers inside."Oh, yes! Sweeney! Oh!" she breathed, now clutching onto his shoulder as she spread her legs as much as she possibly could.

"Happy Saint Valentine's, Mrs. Lovett," Sweeney said in a gruff voice before pulling his fingers out and immediately replacing them with his cock.

"Fucking hell," Mrs. Lovett muttered as he sunk into her. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she wrapped her legs around his hips. It was a miracle, she thought, how amazing he felt inside her. All those nights dreaming of him couldn't compare to this sensation. She lifted her head up to kiss the crook of his neck, and inhaled a deep breath as he began to move. She let herself go, becoming completely infatuated with him. His smell, his touch, his breath down her neck- he was everywhere all at once, and she was drowning in him. He was everything to her, and swore in that moment that she would never let him go again. She was his, and she was going to be damned if she couldn't have him as well.

She didn't know how much time had passed, but before she even knew it, he was pounding into her with such intensity she found herself screaming with every thrust. "Yes! Don't stop…yes, there! Oh, god! Jesus, harder, fuck yes!" She screamed loudly, lifting her hips up to meet his rhythm and letting out a shattering cry as every nerve in her body was lit aflame. She squeezed her eyes shut and curled her toes as every muscle shook and spasmed. "Sweeney," She panted as she came. "Sweeney…Sweeney…Sweeney," She chanted as her body shuddered and contracted and trembled under him.

Sweeney followed close behind as he pushed into her warmth. It was strange for him to watch the baker beneath him as she called out his name and became undone. With a few more thrusts, he spilt into her with a small grunt, and then proceeded to pull out and slump beside her on the sofa. He pressed his face into her tangled auburn hair and inhaled deep lung-fulls of her scent.

The two sat in silence for a long time after they finished, both feeling completely sated. Mrs. Lovett was practically high off of the pleasure she'd just received, and Sweeney felt himself slowly drifting off into a peaceful sleep. He only woke up an hour later to the sensation of a familiar tiny hand stroking down his back. Frowning at first, he sat up on the sofa to find Mrs. Lovett sitting beside him. She was sitting criss crossed in nothing but her burgundy lace knickers and his white button down shirt. Her hair had fallen out of it's crazy little up-do, and her auburn curls spilt down across her shoulders and over the tops of her breasts. She stared at him with warm chocolate eyes and a loving smile.

Shaking his head, Sweeney mentally scolded himself for admiring her beauty and quickly got up to grab his trousers.

"I hate you," He mumbled under his breath.

"No you don't," Mrs. Lovett replied softly.

"Whatever."

"I love you."

"I know."

"Well, do you love me too?"

"Of course not."

"D'you like me?"

"…Maybe."

"We'll start from there then." Mrs. Lovett got up and grabbed the crumpled up valentine off of the floor, gently pressing it into his hand. She then gently got him to sit down next to her, and lay her head on his shoulder with a small smile.

"Happy Saint Valentine's, Mr.T."


End file.
